Based on events during Episode 4 of GoT Season 8

(Also includes flashback from Episode 1 of GoT Season 4)

There was no respite from the cold and snow within Winterfell's walls; the chill and frost were particularly prominent in the stone corridors. As she and Pod left the great hall, Brienne couldn't help wishing that she'd put on her fur cloak before leaving her bedchamber for breakfast…but she'd been too dazed at the time to think about that.

'Milady, what is that?'

Brienne blinked out of reverie and turned to see that Pod was frowning in concern at her as they walked side-by-side along the corridor.

'What's what?' Brienne asked, confused.

'That bruise…it wasn't there yesterday…did one of the White Walkers bite you there?!' Pod asked, horrified, and he brought them both to a halt.

Brienne was stunned by how his hand reached out for her neck, but then as Pod's fingers made contact with the bruise, she remembered Jaime's lips on that very spot last night. Her eyes widened.

'Oh, yes,' Brienne said blankly, her face frozen in mortification. 'A White Walker. Yes.'

To her alarm, none other than Jaime himself then appeared behind them both, a certain swagger to his step as he came to a halt and smiled politely at Brienne and Pod.

'Good morning, Pod. Lady Brienne,' he greeted amiably, and Pod raised his eyebrows bemusedly at him; he'd never seen Jaime acting so chirpy.

'Ser Jaime, good morning, how are you?' Brienne asked, looking away so as to avoid the twitch of his lips and his teasing gaze.

'Very well, thank you, and you?' Jaime said, trying to keep his smile under control.

'I'm-'

'She needs to see the maester again, we missed that on her neck,' Pod said worriedly, pointing out the mark to Jaime. 'It needs seeing to, don't you think, Ser Jaime? What if it's infected?'

Jaime leaned towards Brienne, his hand resting on her shoulder as he pretended to inspect the mark his urgent lips had left on her skin. 'Oh it's just a bruise, I doubt it will turn Brienne into one of those ghastly things if that's what you're worried about, Pod,' he said brightly, and it was clear that he was thoroughly enjoying every moment of this. 'It does look rather severe though, my lady, that wight must have been very…insistent.'

Brienne stared at him. 'It was.'

He'd thought that she would be angry with him for teasing her so, but when Jaime met Brienne's gaze, he found that she too was trying not to smile and that her eyes had that burning look in them. She had given him that look plenty of times last night…before she had closed them in ecstasy, her back arched, her knuckles tight as they gripped the sheets beneath her before moving to clutch at his back, her fingernails digging into his flesh…

Pod glanced back and forth between them warily; he felt as if he were intruding on something private. 'Well I, err…if you're sure it's nothing too serious, I'd better get on…' he said awkwardly, backing away, 'with your permission, that is, milady.'

'Of course, Pod, you don't need to ask,' Brienne said, tearing her gaze away from Jaime, and she nodded at him. 'I'll see you later.'

The moment Pod had walked away from them and disappeared around the corner, Jaime burst out laughing. Brienne slapped his arm in irritation, trying but failing not to smile.

'Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?' she demanded exasperatedly, indicating the mark on her neck.

'I didn't see it, I'm sorry!' Jaime said earnestly, still chuckling. 'The lighting here is-'

'Oh shut up,' Brienne muttered, pursing her lips. 'I do hate you sometimes, you know.'

'And I like you very much too,' Jaime said, making Brienne smile as he closed the distance between them with a few deliberate steps. 'Do I still have permission to return to your chambers tonight?'

Brienne widened her eyes at him in alarm, before looking urgently around at either end of the corridor to make sure that no one was within earshot. Luckily, it was empty. She turned back to Jaime and read the smouldering look in his eyes, the way his lips twisted seductively at one end. She still couldn't believe that he had seen her naked – her, with her awkward body that was too big, too muscular and too bruised and scarred – and yet still wanted her.

'As long as this doesn't happen again,' Brienne said warningly, indicating the mark on her neck.

Jaime frowned. 'I thought you liked that,' he said tantalisingly, reaching out to stroke the bruise with his fingers. 'You certainly seemed to, anyway-'

'Jaime,' Brienne cut over him, blushing furiously as she backed away, and Jaime grinned, 'we can't expect Pod to believe that White Walkers are the cause of- what, why are you smiling like that?'

'Nothing. It's just nice to hear you call me Jaime,' he said softly; he still wasn't used to her addressing him without a title.

Brienne considered him for a moment and then rolled her eyes at his sentimentality, unable to stop smiling.

'Now I must go,' Jaime said, to her disappointment. 'I've been granted an audience with Lady Sansa and I mustn't be late.'

Brienne looked shocked. 'I'm sorry, you've been what?!'

'I asked Tyrion to put in a good word for me over breakfast; she's said she'll see me now. I'm to meet her upstairs,' Jaime explained.

'B-but what are you going to speak to her about?' Brienne asked, her brow creased in worry; was he already wanting to request arrangements to be made for his departure? So soon?

Jaime tilted his head at her. 'I can't put it off forever, Brienne. The battle's done, and I need to know what she intends to do with me,' he said heavily. 'You said so yourself earlier this morning, she'll want to get things…settled.'

'All right,' Brienne said with a sigh, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice. 'Good luck. I'll see you later?'

Jaime smiled at her hopeful tone. 'Of course.'

He walked away but had only gone a few steps when he turned back; glancing around quickly to check that the coast was clear, he swooped up to her, cupped her face in his gloved hands and pressed his lips firmly yet tenderly to hers, catching Brienne completely off guard. He broke apart from her just as quickly, pleased that he had managed to steal a kiss from her, and stroked her cheek as he took in her blush and the way she pressed her smiling lips together giddily. She was looking at him as if she were surprised that he found her attractive or that he was happy to risk being seen like that by someone. Grinning, Jaime touched his lips briefly to hers again and then walked away down the corridor, leaving Brienne flustered and beaming.

Lady Sansa had already gone up and was waiting for him in her study. Jaime took a deep breath before knocking on her door; and forced a polite smile on his face the moment she told him to enter from inside.

'Lady Sansa,' Jaime said at once, shutting the door behind him.

Sansa rose to her feet. 'Ser Jaime,' she greeted from behind her ornate desk, and she gestured the chair opposite her. 'Please, do sit.'

Jaime had had very little contact with Lady Sansa, ever since he had first met her as a child. He had been around briefly during her time at King's Landing, before she had escaped at the wedding immediately after Joffrey's murder, and had only known her to be a timid teenage girl, having been abused into silence and simply doing what was expected of her out of fear of his monstrous family (asides from perhaps her husband, Tyrion). But now a considerable amount of time had passed, and Sansa Stark had grown into a strong, commanding woman who was clever and brave and unafraid to say and do what needed to be done for the good of her people. Brienne had talked to Jaime briefly about how well Sansa ruled as the Lady of Winterfell, and Jaime did not doubt her for one instant – simply seeing Sansa stood before him with her long red hair and regal black dress and cool composure was enough to make him feel proud of the woman she had become. He could even sense Brienne's own influence in Sansa's demeanour.

'Thank you for allowing me to see you,' Jaime said gratefully, taking his allocated seat.

'I was wanting to talk to you anyway, your brother just persuaded me to speed up the process,' Sansa said as she sat back down. 'I trust you enjoyed yourself last night?'

Jaime felt himself freeze. 'M-my lady?'

An awkward pause fell between them, during which a flicker of a smile appeared momentarily on Sansa's face as she stared at him.

'At the feast,' she clarified.

'Oh. Yes,' Jaime said hastily, mortified. 'It was splendid.'

'You certainly seemed to be providing a lot of laughter and entertainment, from what I could see,' Sansa said, watching him carefully.

Jaime forced a chuckle. 'That was more Tyrion's doing rather than mine.'

'I don't doubt it. Your brother's always been a joker.'

Jaime couldn't tell if she meant that with affection or distaste, and a silence fell as they both looked at each other, waiting to see who would make the first move in their discussion.

Eventually Sansa sighed. 'I assume there is a point to this meeting that you would like to address, Ser Jaime, and ideally sometime soon,' she said coolly.

'Y-yes, my lady. I…was wanting to discuss my future here,' Jaime began tentatively. 'Now that the war against the dead is over, I…assume you'll be wanting to make plans here at Winterfell for…what comes next.'

'Indeed. Though I'm not sure why any of those plans should concern you,' Sansa said, frowning thoughtfully at him. 'You no longer have any oaths holding you here, after all, and you're not exactly a friend to the Starks…I must confess I was surprised you didn't make a run for it back to King's Landing the moment the battle here was won.'

Jaime clenched his jaw. 'That's not who I am. Not anymore,' he said, quietly but firmly.

There was a silence as Sansa simply stared at him, thinking deeply.

'Lady – sorry, Ser Brienne trusts you completely,' she said. 'Not many others do, aside from perhaps Tyrion.'

'No,' Jaime agreed, a soft smile forming on his lips. 'I am extremely lucky to have an ally in Brienne.'

'Is that all she is to you? An ally?' Sansa asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

Jaime swallowed nervously as he tilted his head questioningly at her. 'My lady?'

'Only I couldn't help noticing that you seem to have been paying court to her since the moment you arrived here in Winterfell,' Sansa said casually.

A pause fell between them. Jaime was lost for words. Had he really been so blindingly obvious in front of everyone? No wonder Cersei had gotten so agitated every time she'd seen him and Brienne together.

Sansa looked across at Jaime with a hint of a smirk on her face. 'You care for Brienne very much, don't you?'

'I do,' Jaime said without reservation. 'Which is why I would like to stay.'

'You speak as if you have a choice in the matter,' Sansa said, an she frowned at him again. 'I was under the impression you didn't particularly like it here in the North, anyway.'

'It's growing on me,' Jaime said, smiling at the words. 'Forgive me for being untoward, Lady Sansa. I understand you don't trust me – I'm a Lannister, after all. But I don't wish to cause any trouble. I don't wish to be any part in this war, or the fight against my sister. You can keep me here as leverage if you want – it certainly won't work, Cersei wouldn't care – but, hostage or not, all I ask respectfully is that I can remain here in Winterfell. Assuming Ser Brienne will stay here with you.'

'She will, yes,' Sansa said bemusedly.

She looked perplexed; touched, even. Can this really be Jaime Lannister? she wondered. It at least explained why Brienne had always spoken so highly of him. Sansa watched Jaime carefully, taking in his tender expression as he spoke and thought of the woman they both admired so very much, and Sansa's lips parted in shock.

'That's why you came all this way, isn't it? For her,' she said, dazed.

'For her, yes, but also because I had pledged to do so,' Jaime replied. 'I'd like to think that upholding oaths has been my new forte since Brienne and I first met.'

A small smile fell on Sansa's lips. 'Her sword is called 'Oathkeeper'. What a strange coincidence.'

'Indeed.'

'It was a very generous gift for you to bestow on her. I haven't thanked you, for what you did – sending her to find me,' Sansa said sincerely. 'Without her, I would not be alive.'

'Neither would I,' Jaime said, and another silence fell for a few moments while they looked at each other.

Sansa sighed. 'You wish to stay by her side.' It wasn't a question.

Jaime nodded. 'I have allowed Brienne and myself to part ways too many times. I won't do it again.'

He spoke with such certainty and clarity, his eyes brimming with earnest love for the woman they spoke off as he wordlessly begged Sansa to grant him his wish. His intensity almost made Sansa look away, flustered. She found herself somewhat jealous of Brienne – she wished she could have found a man who would speak of her in such a way.

Sansa cleared her throat briefly. 'I will obviously have to discuss the matter with Brienne myself, you understand? You never know…she might want you gone and forbidden from entering the grounds ever again. Although…something tells me that won't be the case,' she said, exchanging a knowing look with Jaime, and he smiled at her.

'I will comply with whatever you command, Lady Sansa,' he promised. 'I don't expect you to allow me to roam free around the castle now the battle against the dead is won. If you wish me to be imprisoned for my past crimes, I would understand.'

But Sansa shook her head at him. 'You will not be my prisoner, Ser Jaime. You left the enemy and came all this way to fight for Winterfell. You defended the castle, and you helped save the lives of my people. You will be my guest,' she declared, and as Jaime gaped at her in shock, Sansa smiled. 'Brienne was right; you are an honourable man.'

A shaky breath escaped Jaime's mouth as he tried not to let his emotions get the better of him. 'Thank you, my lady. That means a great deal to me, truly,' he said, and Sansa nodded kindly at him.

When he left her study moments later, Jaime found himself in utter awe, longing to locate Brienne as Sansa's words echoed in his ears. For the first time, he felt like he had made the right decision. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.

Several weeks had passed since the news of Lady Catelyn's death. Having been forced to grieve quickly in order to put on the façade of wanting to remain in the good graces of the Lannister family, Brienne had managed to adjust to the hot temperatures and the routines of daily life at court in King's Landing. However, despite being offered permanent residence here, she did not consider the Red Keep to be her home…and she sensed that she wasn't alone in that regard.

After accepting and acknowledging the begrudging respect they had formed for one another since Locke had captured them a few months ago, Jaime and Brienne had become friends upon arriving in the capital. Both of them had more or less recovered from their wounds obtained during their journey from the Riverlands now, after many attentive examinations and treatment from Qyburn. Jaime had even got back to work in his new position as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, with a new impressive golden suit of armour and sword. But his gruelling duties and possessive family didn't keep him from spending time with his former captor.

The vulnerability and tenderness (and, at times, even intimacy) that had blossomed between Jaime and Brienne during their journey back from Harrenhal to the capital seemed to have slowly evaporated since Jaime had been launched straight back into his Kingsguard duties and golden-lion façade at the Red Keep. Now that he and Brienne were no longer in peril or grieving or weakened from their wounds, they had reverted back to their formal, bickering selves, only at least this time they didn't mean their insults and felt moderately affectionate towards one another.

They frequently argued, but this had become such a familiar pastime that it was almost comforting to Jaime now; it had only been a few weeks, and yet he couldn't imagine King's Landing without Brienne's presence. He would be somewhat lost here without her, guiding him through this difficult time adjusting to his new life and position here. Although she didn't like to admit it, Brienne felt the same way; sometimes she could forget how truly alone she was here in this strange, daunting city when she was with Jaime. She didn't like spending time at court and found it almost impossible to relax enough to hold conversation with any of the people here, but at least Jaime treated her like an ordinary person, rather than a freak. He made her feel normal. Comfortable, even. They could simply be two friends on a hot summer's day bickering and bantering and watching the world pass by. And it made them both content, if only for a short time, before they would both have to part ways to avoid suspicion from any civilians and spies, and attend to their separate duties.

Of course, they had to be discreet whenever they met. Brienne was Jaime's guest here at King's Landing, but in Cersei's mind she was Jaime's prisoner, seeming as she had been in the service of the late Catelyn Stark. Jaime knew that he would never be allowed to voluntarily seek out time with someone who wasn't on the side of the Lannisters, so it was with great caution that he arranged a rendezvous point and time on occasional intervals every few days.

On one particular day, Brienne found herself waiting to meet with him, at her request, outside near the Red Keep's Godswood. She was anxious to discuss the wellbeing of the Stark girls; it was beyond time they settled matters on what they were do, and her sense of duty towards the innocent young daughters of Lady Catelyn had been all Brienne had had to cling onto in order to get her through these trying weeks here in the intimidating capital.

As she waited for Jaime to arrive, she found herself watching a young man and woman nearby, barely past the age of twenty, huddled together in a secluded corner of the gardens, their hands intertwined, their foreheads against each other's, their expressions loving and adoring as they shared a tender kiss. To Brienne, the courting couple seemed to emit a sort of ethereal glow, an ambiance of such joy where nothing else seemed to matter to them but each other. Brienne had seen many pairs like that since arriving here at the capital. It made her somewhat sad to know that she would never experience that happy glow, that joyous feeling in your heart. As hard as she might wish for it, it would never happen for her. After all, how could it? She was undesirable, unlikeable, and everything a woman shouldn't be.

'Hello.'

Brienne was startled; she hadn't heard him arrive. Sometimes she suspected that Jaime approached her quietly like that on purpose, just because it amused him so to see her jump. Not that he often succeeded – Brienne was nearly always on high alert, as if on guard duty, wherever she went in this strange city. She blinked rapidly as she turned around to face him; it had been weeks since his lengthy session with the barber, and yet Brienne still couldn't get over her amazement of how handsome Jaime looked with his clean-shaven face, his cheeks scarred with the marks of their shared journey through the Riverlands with Locke, and his smart short haircut. She knew she must look unbelievably stupid next to him in comparison, but luckily for her they often arranged to meet somewhere out-of-sight of those people who mattered. At least today he was in his indistinctive brown leather clothing rather than his glorified, imposing armour.

'Ser Jaime,' Brienne greeted, bowing her head, and Jaime's lips twitched; even after everything they had been through, Brienne still insisted that they address each other formally.

He looked her over briefly, always anxious to check that she was well and being cared for. Today she was dressed in the blue and tan Tarth-emblazoned clothes he had gifted her with two weeks past; a simple leather jerkin over a large skirt. The look suited her.

'How are you, Lady Brienne?' he asked politely, walking towards her.

'I'm well, thank you. And you?'

'I…' Jaime trailed off and sighed. 'Well, you know.'

They looked at each other with sad half-smiles on their faces, but before either of them could say anything, they were then distracted by the sound of a girl giggling. Jaime looked over Brienne's shoulder to the spot she had been gazing longingly at, and spotted the young couple sat laughing together and kissing over in the corner of the gardens.

'Oh. So that's who you were watching,' Jaime noted, frowning bemusedly as he turned away from the couple and back to Brienne.

Her face had fallen slightly in embarrassment. She frequently forgot how this irritating man could read her like an open book now. He nearly always knew exactly what was going through her mind.

'I never thought you cared about any of that, my lady,' Jaime said curiously.

'I don't,' Brienne said at once, flushing slightly as she looked away from him, irritated.

Jaime smirked; she was very unconvincing. 'You're a terrible liar, you know. It doesn't come naturally to you.'

'You say that like it's a good thing,' Brienne muttered glumly.

Last year, she had thought of deceit as treacherous and dishonourable, but now the past few traumatic months of her life had taught her to be a cynic and had opened her up to the brutalities of the real world. If she was to survive, she needed to learn how to lie.

Jaime hesitated thoughtfully. 'Yes. Well I think in some ways it is,' he said, as the giggling couple then went hurrying past them both hand-in-hand, and he smiled at her. 'Very well then. If it wasn't those young lovers, what were you thinking about? You seemed rather…deep in concentration.'

Brienne turned her back on the departing couple as she addressed him. 'I was thinking that Lady Catelyn would have been horrified to discover her daughter's been married off to a Lannister,' she said coolly.

Jaime chuckled and nodded in agreement. 'I'll try not to take too much offence at that.'

Brienne gave him a hard look. She hadn't meant it like that. His house name was like a curse, but he wasn't like the others in his family, Brienne was certain of that now.

'It's better for her sake that Tyrion's her husband rather than Joffrey, believe me,' Jaime said darkly.

'And will your brother treat her honourably?' Brienne asked as they began walking side-by-side down the path.

'He will. He even has some experience; he was married once before. Though…only briefly,' Jaime said, and he grimaced.

Brienne raised an eyebrow at him. 'That sounds rather ominous.'

'A tale for another time,' he said. 'I bored you enough with stories of my family on the journey back from Harrenhal.'

Brienne looked down at her feet as they walked on towards the cliff edge of the Godswood, the sound of the sea's crashing waves getting louder as they went. She hadn't been bored at all. On the contrary, she'd been fascinated, not to mention touched that he would want to share such stories about the people closest to him to someone like her.

'Even if he does treat her well…this place is not her home,' Brienne murmured, frowning anxiously at him as they reached the edge and rested against the brick wall, overlooking the glorious ocean.

Jaime glanced at her, assuming from her tone and expression that there was a point she was trying to make. She then looked pointedly down at the ground far below them, closer to the sea; Jaime followed her gaze to see the familiar shining red hair of young Sansa Stark, knelt down on the ground with her eyes closed in prayer. Jaime realised then why Brienne had suggested the Godswood as their meeting place today – she had known that Sansa would be there, praying, to further strengthen her argument. Jaime sighed, half in resignation and half in admiration of Brienne, as he gazed down pitifully at his poor new sister-in-law.

'There she is,' Brienne said, as they watched the young girl from above.

'Yes, there she is,' Jaime said heavily. 'And?'

Brienne rounded on him as she leant on the wall. 'You made a promise,' she said firmly.

Jaime nodded, avoiding her stern gaze as he tapped his fingers on the wall. 'To return the Stark girls to their mother, who is now dead,' he pointed out, tilting his head at Brienne with a sceptical expression.

'To keep them safe,' Brienne insisted, her tone irritable as she glared at him; why was he so reluctant?

'Well, Arya Stark hasn't been seen since her father was killed. Where do you think she is?' Jaime said, pulling a face. 'My money's on dead. There's a certain safety in death, wouldn't you say? And Sansa Stark is now…Sansa Lannister. Bit of a complication.'

Brienne resented his tone. He was speaking almost like the old Jaime would have done. But she knew him now. She had witnessed the way he had changed. And she knew he wouldn't be able to keep up this pretence of no longer caring.

'A complication does not release you from a vow,' Brienne said sternly.

'What do you want me to do?' Jaime demanded, exasperated. 'Kidnap my sister-in-law? And-and take her where? Where would she be safer than here?'

Incredulous, Brienne straightened up, her eyes boring into his. 'Look me in the eye and tell me that you think she'll be safe in King's Landing,' she said, nearing towards him.

Jaime stared back at her, his eyes squinting slightly against the glare of the sunlight, and grimaced irritably as he realised he had no comeback. She was too stubborn to back down anyway, she always was.

Why does she always have to be so infuriating? Why do I like to keep having her around when she's so intolerable?

He turned away from her and gazed out at the sea, too annoyed to face the satisfied gleam in her eyes as Brienne continued to watch him, knowing that she had won the argument. Ever since they had arrived here in the capital, even through her mourning of Lady Catelyn, Brienne had been determined to force Jaime to think beyond his own selfish existence, as if she were afraid he would go back to thinking like a Lannister if she didn't. Deep down, Jaime was grateful for her efforts – she seemed to bring out the best in him, after all, and he had become a slightly more moral person due to her influence – however right now he was too stubborn to oblige her.

Jaime turned back to face her, tilting his head exasperatedly. 'Are you sure we're not related?' he asked.

Brienne stared at him, alarmed. The way he'd spoken the words had almost sounded as if he was flirting with her.

'Ever since I've returned, every Lannister I've seen has been a miserable pain in my arse,' he went on indignantly, sounding like a petulant little boy. 'Maybe you're a Lannister, too. You've got the hair for it, if not the looks.'

With a flicker of his eyebrows, Jaime then swaggered off, away from the cliffs and the sea and back in the direction of the Red Keep. Brienne watched him go, unperturbed; they both knew that he only insulted her appearance whenever he lost an argument and couldn't think of any decent response.

But it wasn't just that. Ever since he had rescued her from Harrenhal, Jaime had been frequently forced to hit her (and himself) with her obvious lack of beauty whenever he was confronted with the strange feelings inside that kept threatening to bubble to his consciousness. He simply didn't know what to do with them. He shook his head rapidly to himself now as he strode ahead, but it didn't surprise him one bit when he heard Brienne's heavy footsteps behind him. Deep down, he was glad she was following.

'You think insulting me will silence me on the subject?' Brienne said sceptically from behind as they re-entered the gardens of the Godswood.

Jaime sighed. 'No, I don't. I just don't like that smug look on your face when you're right and I'm wrong,' he said irritably, coming to a halt so that she could catch up to him.

Brienne rolled her eyes. 'In that case, you must struggle to look at me most days.'

Jaime shook his head as he turned to face her, trying not to smile. 'I miss the time when you didn't have a sense of humour,' he said wistfully. 'Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Lady Brienne.'

'I only learnt from the best,' Brienne said, tilting her head at him.

Jaime chuckled as the two unlikely friends kept on walking down the pleasant garden paths. 'We'll discuss Lady Sansa's predicament in the near future,' he said, albeit reluctantly. 'For now, I must focus on preparations for my nephew's wedding. You'll be attending, I hope?'

Something strange stirred within Brienne at the sound of those last two words, almost like a fluttering sensation in her stomach…a similar fluttering sensation that she'd experienced regularly on the occasions when Renly had praised her for her service.

No. Stop thinking like that, she told herself fiercely, flustered.

'I will,' Brienne replied.

'Good. As annoying as you are, you make for better conversation than most of the soldiers in my command,' Jaime said grumpily.

'You'll be on duty on the day then, I take it?'

'Yes. Perhaps it's for the best…I won't have to sit on the high table with all my family judging me,' Jaime said, his tone sour.

He looked up at the Red Keep looming above them. He would have to go back soon, but he didn't want to. This no longer felt like his home anymore. He didn't feel like he belonged or like he was wanted or loved. As if she could read his thoughts, Brienne tilted her head at him anxiously, her expression unusually soft.

'Are things…not well with your family, Ser Jaime?' she asked quietly.

A flicker of a sad smile appeared on Jaime's face as he looked briefly at her while they walked on. 'Truth to be told, none of them seem to particularly…like me anymore. Except from perhaps Tyrion. They think I'm a changed man since my return,' he said, almost bitterly.

'And do you? Do you think you're a changed man?'

She had stopped walking. Jaime stopped as well as he turned to Brienne. The hope in her eyes made his face falter, ashamed.

'I…I'm a Lannister at heart,' he said resignedly, averting his gaze. 'No one can really change that much.'

'I don't believe that. And you don't either,' Brienne said firmly, taking a step towards him. 'Look, I made no secret of the fact that you repulsed me when we first met-'

'Thank you very much,' Jaime interjected.

'-but you're better now,' Brienne insisted, shocking Jaime to his very core as he read the earnestness in her expression. 'You have both light and dark inside you, as does everyone. I've seen you grow to act more towards the light in the time I've known you.'

Jaime looked down in a daze, unsure of how to respond; Brienne rarely spoke like this. 'I appreciate the sentiment, Lady Brienne, truly. But sometimes the darkness inside can't be avoided,' he said sadly.

A lump in his throat, Jaime looked back up at the castle. Even from this distance, he could make out the long glistening golden curls of his sister, stood on the balcony and drinking a goblet of wine – did she ever do anything else these days? – while she looked out over their son's kingdom. Luckily the cover of the trees would prevent Cersei from seeing the company Jaime currently kept…unless she had some spies following him, hidden in the gardens. Jaime wouldn't put it past her.

Brienne followed Jaime's gaze too but looked away disdainfully when she realised he was watching his sister high up on the tower balcony. Her eyes fell instinctively to the golden hand fastened to his right wrist. Cersei had apparently been so revolted by his stump that she had forced Qyburn to make a golden replacement for him. It made Brienne sad to see Cersei control Jaime like this, to make him ashamed of his scars, but Jaime had lived too long in this abusive relationship to see it for what it really was. Or perhaps he had just accepted it because he was accustomed to such treatment and believed he deserved such unfairness and disdain and toxicity. But Brienne knew that now not to be the case. If only she could just make Jaime see it.

'How are you anyway, my lady?' Jaime then asked tentatively, as he turned his back on the castle and tilted his head at Brienne in concern. 'Really, I mean. Are you…happy here?'

'I…' She would never go that far. 'I'm very appreciative of your hospitality, Ser Jaime. You've been far too generous in letting me stay here.'

Jaime frowned. 'Nonsense.'

Brienne hesitated, not sure how to respond. He gestured a nearby stone bench; they sat down together. They both looked at each other, and Jaime sighed.

'Look…I know this place and the people here make you uncomfortable. I feel better now that you're recovered from your wounds, so…' He trailed off heavily, looking down at his lap, then forced himself to look back up at her. 'If you wish, I can send word to your father and see you returned safely to Tarth.'

Brienne's lips parted. She hadn't been expecting him to say that. She wasn't sure if his words made her feel relieved or hurt.

'That's very kind of you,' she said graciously. 'W-would you like me to go?'

Jaime looked horrified at the mere suggestion. 'That wasn't what I…' But he trailed off again, suddenly rather awkward.

Brienne's eyes widened, bewildered, as she watched him look away agitatedly. She swallowed nervously as a group of people walked past them, oblivious. Struggling to cope with the silence, she looked around at the gardens; they were enchanting, particularly in the glow of the summer sun. Perhaps one day she would be able to appreciate them properly.

'I'm aware I've been a burden…' Brienne began, but Jaime interrupted her at once.

'You haven't. You've been a…mild irritation,' he said, and Brienne tilted her head at him, unimpressed. 'But one I've grown…accustomed to.'

'Yours words have moved me deeply, Ser Jaime.'

Jaime frowned at her, confused, then realised she was being sarcastic; a soft chuckle escaped his mouth. 'You're a confusing woman, you know.'

Brienne felt her cheeks colour slightly. It was the first time he had referred to her as a woman without any hint of irony.

'I would have to think about it,' she said tentatively. 'I don't feel like I could go just yet, not with Lady Sansa here. This isn't her home.'

'Unfortunately it is now, the poor girl,' Jaime said, sighing. 'Although you know I would keep a close eye on her.'

'Do I?' Brienne said, and he raised his eyebrows at her. 'Yes, I suppose I do.'

'So…you shouldn't let any obligation to her hold you here,' Jaime insisted, and he swallowed. 'If it wasn't for Lady Sansa, if it wasn't…for our oath to her mother…would you stay? If I asked you to?'

Brienne gazed at him, stunned by the softness of his tone. She looked into his eyes, trying to search for any hint of mockery, but there was none.

'Why?' Brienne asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Jaime averted his gaze. 'I…feel like the court benefits from your presence here,' he said.

Brienne stared at him.

'Also you're highly fascinating entertainment for everyone at the Red Keep,' he added hastily. 'I don't think they've ever seen a woman like you.'

Brienne's nostrils flared. 'So I should use my ugliness to amuse the lords and ladies of King's Landing,' she said in a low, empty voice. 'What a tempting offer.'

Jaime flushed. 'I didn't mean…' He looked down, ashamed. 'I only meant that you're…remarkably tall.'

'Hmm.'

'And I…I wouldn't want to see you leave just yet,' Jaime admitted, though he couldn't meet her eyes as he said it.

Brienne frowned at him, perplexed. 'What's wrong?' she demanded.

'What?' Jaime said, confused as he looked up at her.

'Why are you acting so…odd?'

'I'm not!' Jaime said at once, embarrassed. 'I just want to make sure you're…doing whatever's best for you, that's all.'

'Exactly!'

He tilted his head at her, a look of disappointment on his face. 'Do you really think me so heartless?' he asked quietly.

Brienne blinked rapidly. 'Well I thought that…after getting settled back into your home life here with your family and your work, you'd-'

'Revert back to my old ways?' Jaime cut over her, and he rose to his feet. 'You disappoint me, Lady Brienne, I'd hoped you'd have a little more faith in me than that.'

Brienne watched him, baffled, as he left the bench and began to walk away. She didn't know what to make of his behaviour. She slowly got up to her feet.

'I think I will stay,' she said, and Jaime halted in his tracks. 'Just for a bit longer. Until I know for sure that Lady Sansa is…in good hands.'

Jaime turned to face her, a hint of a smile on his face. 'I'm glad. Though it'll just be the one hand, in this case,' he said.

Brienne pursed her lips. 'You're not funny.'

'I think I am. Sometimes,' Jaime said, and he smirked as Brienne's lips twitched slightly. 'Anyway, forgive me but…I'd…better get on.'

Brienne nodded. 'It was…nice…to talk to you again,' she said, though she was reluctant to admit it.

'Yes. It was,' Jaime said, and he smiled at her.

Their gaze lingered before Brienne looked away, slightly flustered. 'I'll…see you around court.'

Brienne bowed her head and then walked away down the path back towards Lady Sansa; Jaime watched her go.

'I saw that.'

Jaime turned around, shocked. Tyrion had appeared in the corner of the gardens. How long he had been stood there, Jaime couldn't be sure; he had been too preoccupied.

'I'm sorry?' Jaime asked, bewildered.

'That,' Tyrion said, jerking his head towards Brienne's retreating figure. 'That look between you.'

Jaime looked away, unsure of how his brother's statement made him feel. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'No, I don't expect you would,' Tyrion said with a roll of his eyes, and he walked over to Jaime, his eyes on Brienne as she walked away back towards the cliff. 'So…that's the famous Brienne of Tarth.'

'You mean you've not met her yet?' Jaime said, surprised.

'I haven't had the pleasure yet, no.'

'How?' Jaime said incredulously. 'She's been here for weeks and she's…not exactly hard to miss.'

'Hmm,' Tyrion said, nodding in agreement. ''Brienne the Beauty', I've heard they call her.'

Jaime's nostrils flared as he glared warningly at his brother. 'Don't.'

'Dear brother, if you really think I'd mock someone for their looks, then you really don't know me as well as I thought.'

Jaime sighed and turned away agitatedly. He wished Tyrion would stop looking at him like that, as if he believed he knew exactly what was going on. He knew nothing. No one here knew what he and Brienne had been through together. No one could understand. Jaime barely understood himself.

'So what is your former captor still doing here in the capital?' Tyrion asked curiously, frowning. 'I'd have thought she'd have been shipped off to Tarth by now. Or is she our hostage, now Lady Stark is dead?'

'She's my guest here,' Jaime replied firmly.

Tyrion's lips twitched. 'And how does our charming sister feel about that?'

Jaime looked at him. His silence was answer enough.

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. 'Oh dear. Good luck dealing with that.'

Sighing heavily, Jaime turned away from his brother and looked back towards Brienne. In the distance, he could see that she was leaning once more against the brick wall, looking down the cliff to check on Lady Sansa. He could tell it was frustrating for Brienne not to be allowed to approach the girl she had sworn to protect, but there were spies everywhere, and she couldn't be seen to fraternize with her. At least, not now at any rate.

He hoped that someday Brienne would find peace with herself; she had let guilt over Lady Catelyn's fate plague her ever since she had heard the news. Perhaps she would find solace if Sansa were to take her into her service, if such a thing were possible given the current circumstances. Perhaps then Sansa would indeed be safe and content, and Brienne's sense of purpose therefore fulfilled. Jaime didn't normally pray, but this evening he would pray for them both.

Let them find each other, he thought desperately. Let them help each other. Let them be safe.

Little did Jaime know that once these two extraordinary women did find each other, they would be a force to be reckoned with.

~ Present Day ~

Brienne had never felt nervous entering Lady Sansa's study before, not once. But today she did. Even the blush-worthy thoughts of Jaime and their night of passion together last night was not enough to distract her. Through her nervous smiles and fluttering tingles of excitement in her stomach, Brienne knew that this meeting was pivotal in deciding her future with Jaime.

She knew what she had to say, should the opportunity present itself for her to broach the subject. After all, she knew her heart. She knew she'd never felt like this before. And she knew now that she didn't care what people would think or say about them. No man was perfect, and she wouldn't change Jaime even if she could. She loved him, just as he was. All she could do now was hope that that would be enough for Sansa to understand.

'My lady, you asked to see me?' Brienne greeted, trying to maintain her usual calm and professional composure as she shut the door behind her.

'Yes – please, do come in, Brienne,' Sansa said politely, rearranging some scrolls on her desk.

'Is this about the meeting later with Queen Daenerys?' Brienne asked. 'I can gather more maps if-'

'No, it's not about that – don't worry, you've done more than enough preparation for that. Besides, I'd like to take my mind off Daenerys Targaryen, even if only for a short while,' Sansa said dryly.

Brienne nodded with a sympathetic smile. 'Then how can I be of help, my lady?'

'Actually…it's of how I might be of help to you,' Sansa said, and Brienne gave her a questioning look. 'I spoke with Ser Jaime earlier today.'

Brienne sank slowly into the seat opposite Sansa, her heart racing. 'Y-you did?'

'Hmm. He's a very interesting man,' Sansa said, watching Brienne carefully.

Brienne hesitated, then felt herself smile. 'He is.'

Sansa tilted her head at her. 'So…how long have you two…?'

'I don't know what you mean,' Brienne said at once, feeling her body tense in horror all over.

'Brienne, please spare me, he was wearing your shirt this morning,' Sansa said impatiently, putting her scrolls away in the drawers of her desk, and Brienne felt herself go red.

'He…I'm not sure how that could have happened…' She trailed off hopelessly, and a silence fell between them.

Sansa raised her eyebrows. 'And I thought you said he would treat you honourably…'

Brienne looked up in alarm but realised from the twitch in Sansa's lips that she was teasing her. Brienne could do nothing but blush. She was mortified, but secretly quite giddy.

'Fine, let's both pretend you and Ser Jaime are merely fellow knights,' Sansa said with a roll of her eyes. 'He has asked if he can remain here.'

'In Winterfell?' Brienne asked in disbelief, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

'Yes,' Sansa replied, smiling. 'I've said he can, as my honoured guest, but only with your consent.'

Brienne was bewildered. 'My lady, why should I have any say in it?'

'Because you're the reason he wants to stay.'

There was a stunned silence. Brienne could barely believe what Sansa had just said. But then she thought of the way Jaime had gazed at her from across the hall over breakfast this morning, of how he'd kissed her and smiled at her in the secluded corner of the castle corridor, of everything he had said and done last night and this morning. And then suddenly Brienne found that she could believe it after all.

'He really said that?' Brienne murmured.

'He did.'

'I…I won't agree to anything if you're against it, my lady,' Brienne said at once.

'This may come as a surprise to you, but I'm not against it. Ser Jaime seems loyal to you and I trust your judgement so…he can stay with us…wherever the war takes us,' Sansa said firmly, and she smiled. 'If he makes you happy, Brienne, then I'm happy for you, truly.'

'He does, my lady,' Brienne said, her voice shaking with her earnest need to speak out about her joy; she knew there was no point in trying to pretend anymore in front of Sansa. 'More than I thought possible.'

'That makes me so glad,' Sansa said sincerely. 'I was in need of cheering news.'

Brienne's smile disappeared. 'Oh?'

'Don't worry, it's nothing to trouble you with…just some disagreements with my siblings and our…Mother of Dragons, that's all,' Sansa said, her knuckles clenching slightly as she looked down at her desk.

'I hope it resolves,' Brienne said, concerned.

'So do I. No doubt that will become clear in the meeting later today,' Sansa said bracingly.

Brienne recognised the dismissal, and rose to her feet. 'Then, if that'll be all, I'll…let you get on, my lady,' she said, bowing her head and turning back to the door.

'Before you go, Brienne – just so I can inform my handmaiden…will Ser Jaime still be requiring his own chambers?' Sansa asked.

'O-of course, my lady,' Brienne replied, mortified.

Sansa tilted her head at her, a sceptical look on her face. 'Truthfully?'

There was an awkward pause. Jaime's chambers could no doubt be used for someone else's accommodations, Brienne was well aware of that, but to state aloud that Jaime would have no need of them would be as good as displaying the loss of her maidenhood for the whole of Winterfell to see. But then again, war and loss had a way of distinguishing the things that really mattered in this life, and now that Brienne knew what it was like to love and to be loved, she found that she no longer cared about the inconsequential, trivial matters like gossip.

Sansa gave her a reassuring smile. 'I'm not judging, Brienne, you both nearly died in the battle, it's…understandable. And…I quite see the attraction in Ser Jaime,' she said, her lips twitching, and Brienne blushed. 'You mustn't tell anyone I said that, especially not him. Although he looked better clean-shaven as far as I remember.'

'I'm actually quite fond of the beard, my lady,' Brienne said.

She spoke truthfully; Jaime's beard reminded her of his scruffy days on the road in the Riverlands. It brought back the fond memories of their time bonding together on the journey back from Harrenhal to King's Landing.

Sansa and Brienne then looked away from each other, both suddenly flustered by the impropriety of their conversation. They had become extremely good friends, and spoke openly to each other, but never before about matters of this sort.

'Yes, well…that's enough talk of that,' Sansa said hastily. 'Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Though it won't be for long if you two don't learn how to be subtle.'

Brienne smiled back at her. 'Right you are, my lady. Thank you.'

The moment Brienne had left the study and closed the door behind her, Sansa let out a sigh of relief, pleased that she had done the right thing. No matter how much she might pretend otherwise for Brienne's sake, Sansa held no particular warmth for Jaime Lannister. But she was willing to get past her dislike of him so that Brienne, her dear friend and protector, could be happy. That was all that really mattered in these dark times, after all. And Brienne had rarely had a chance to let herself be happy.